


The Trials of Steven Grant Rogers

by HyacinthZ (FaZeME)



Series: The Strange and Dramatic Relationship of Tony Stark and Steve Rogers [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Fix-It of Sorts, Humor, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 08:30:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11528460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaZeME/pseuds/HyacinthZ
Summary: Steven shattered not just the suit when he slammed the shield down on his friend. He didn't realise to fix whatever it was between them, it would take more than just a package sent through FedEx.





	The Trials of Steven Grant Rogers

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO PEOPLE OF THE MARVEL FANDOM!!!  
> This is my first fic so please leave an open mind while reading it.

He closed his eyes and awaited his inevitable end. Battered, bruised and bloody he lay as the man above him brought his shield down. Accepting his end, he said his last prayers. He wasn’t a religious man. He had never been and yet the moment of eventual death moved him to close his eyes, words flooding through his mind.

_Dear whatever God that exists, please forgive all the mistakes that I have committed in this life. The sex, the alcohol, everything._

His inner rambles were suddenly interrupted by the sudden force of vibranium against his chest. He heard the splinter of glass and the collision of metal followed by the sudden pressure of his suit powering down. He opened his eyes, the man above him staring back down at him with the same intense blue eyes he had seen when they had first met. The same passion and the same ferocity. His lips were moving. 

_Wait, what is he saying?_

Yet Tony couldn’t hear him over the loud ringing in his ear.

“Just go!” He shouted wildly, “Take him and just go!” 

He saw the eyes crinkle with sadness as he stood back up. He watched as the two men run out as he lay trapped in his broken creation. Five minutes later, he crawled out of the suit. The adrenaline had finally come down, leaving him exhausted and delirious. He stood up and kicked his helmet. He started tearing at the metal at his feet. As he destroyed his creation, he felt his father peering down at him. Once again, his father’s creation had won. His prized super soldier with the special shield had bested the pitiful Tony Stark.

 

…

 

It took a bit of time readjusting back into what Tony would have described “normality”. It was strange without the rest of the team bickering in the background. He had Natasha although she seemed to be avoiding him most of the time, only flitting guilty eyes at him at various instances. At least Rhodey was recovering at a remarkable rate. The injured man found it amusing that he had a being as powerful as Vision acting as his personal assistant. Tony knew it would take a while for Vision to get over his guilt even though both Rhodey and he told him that they had already forgiven him. It was the nightmares that were the worst. Nearly every night he would wake in cold sweat, the vivid image of the bloody shield coming down to his neck. The man he once called friend leering down at him as he bled onto the cold Siberian ground.

When he received the phone, Tony ignored his first instinct to simply throw it away and burn the letter that came with it.

_What a grandpa, still writing letters._

Yet he kept both and read the words Rogers had left him. After reading the last word, Tony came to the conclusion that his initial judgement had been indeed correct and threw the letter away. It was ridiculous that the ex-hero was so naïve to believe that Tony would simply accept his apology. That he was so self-righteous to believe that if he offered and olive branch of friendship that Tony would come flying back to him. Yet he kept the phone for emergency purposes. He knew that even if the Avengers were destroyed, if there was a threat that needed to be dealt with, he would need Captain America.

“Hey.” The voice broke him out of his trance.

“Hey you.” He watched as his best friend hobbled over to him in his crutches and proceeded to sit down on the couch beside him. He rubbed the phone lightly with his calloused fingers, tempted to flip it open and press the number that appeared. “Rhodey,” he began. “I don’t need an intervention, I’m perfectly fine.” Rhodey sighed softly.

“You’re not fine.” Tony tried to move away from the confrontation. “Stop, I’m injured right now so you have to be extra nice to me and do what I say.” He stopped getting up and groaned sarcastically. “Tony, I love you and as your best friend, you need to stop blaming yourself for everything that has happened. This,” A finger jabbed into his chest, “was not your fault. You invited everyone into your home Tony. You created this family. You tried to keep the Avengers alive. You tried to make the Avengers better, heck you tried to make the entire world better. Don’t listen to what everyone else says.” Rhodey paused to breath. “You are a goddamn genius and amazing person and I don’t care what anyone else says. And if a stupid blonde thinks that he is above everyone and runs away, that isn’t on you. That’s on him.”

 

... 

 

That night as he worked until dawn in his workshop, Rhodey’s speech echoing through his mind. Tony knew he was broken, physically and emotionally. He was tired, living off coffee for god knows how long. His mind was crumbling, filled with images of his crippled best friend, a destroyed Avengers and above all, Captain Rogers standing over him with the red, blue and white shield coming down upon him. He tried to drown his thoughts under the cacophony of screeching metal, dripping oil and whirring robots and yet as he lay on the cold floor of his workshop, he couldn’t help but feel the guilt envelope him. Dum-E lightly nudged his side as he lay, clearly alarmed and distressed at his creator’s condition. Beside him lay the derelict armour he wore while battling Rogers and Bucky, the crack in the glass still there. Splintered. Shattered. Like the Avengers. Like Tony.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are what keeps me going. Thanks for reading :)


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